Page 66 of All I Want For Christmas

He turned to look at her again, this time turning his entire body. Which was very distracting. Then he leaned back against the podium and crossed his arms. That caused his biceps to bunch. She forced her eyes to his.

His nonchalance irritated her.

"Sure,” he said. “At the bed and breakfast in town. Which is a very lovely establishment. Also quite a ways away from all thegators. I’m talking aboutonthe bayou. In a cabin. I don't think you have the first idea what that's like."

She didn’t. He was right about that.

Savannah narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. "There's no way I can spend a whole week."

"A weekend then. I don't think it will take you that long to understand that what you're proposing is a bad idea. You can't take rich folks from the city, and put them down the middle of the bayou, no matter how many fancy towels you provide. Why not just let them stay at the bed-and-breakfastinAutre? Or at the hotel down off the highway? They’re closer to conveniences and comforts. It's just a whole different thing than being out actuallyonthe bayou.”

"I think you're underestimating people," she told him. "Obviously, it's not for everyone. But people who want to come down here and have a taste of this wonderful, unique culture and environment will enjoy it very much. You should want people to come and learn about this part of world. The more time they spend down here, the better they’ll understand it, and the more protective of it they’ll be. It will make them want to preserve it.”

He gave her a look that said you’re-totally-full-of-shit. "What weekend will you be staying with us?"

"You're saying if I stay one weekend in a cabin on the bayou, then you'll support this plan?"

His eyes narrowed. "If you, Savannah Lee, City Girl, can last one weekend all by yourself, and not get into trouble, then I'll admit that maybe I'm wrong."

She looked up at the city council. They were all very interested in this exchange. And dammit, she could tell they thought it was a good idea. She was very good at reading people. It was what made her so good at her job in sales and marketing.

They all thought this was a reasonable compromise.

And fuck, it kind of was. He had a point, after all. The bayou itself was beautiful. From an airboat, when she was fully slathered in sunscreen, bug spray, in a big floppy hat, huge sunglasses, and with maybe a couple hurricanes in her system. She had a great time on the swamp boat tours she’d been on. But that had been in the middle of the day, with her friends, and she'd been driven around by hot bayou boys like Josh Landry, and Cian O'Grady. Okay Cian wasn’t from the bayou, but he was still hot, charming, funny, and had laughed and flirted and made sure everyone had a great time.

But the idea of staying overnight in a cabin on the bayou? With alligator swimming right outside? And a boat the only way to and from? Yeah, that had never even occurred to her.

But she wanted this project to go.

Steve thought she was great.

She wanted him to think she was invaluable.

Building luxury cabins on the bayou was not her ultimate prize, but it would get her closer to her ultimate prize. Steve wanted to expand. Go to more states. North. West. Deserts, mountains, beaches, lakes. She really wanted to be one of his top managers when he started spreading out. Then she could pick to go wherever she wanted to. See the country. Go to all the places she'd never been.

She looked from the front table back to Theo.

Everyone was just waiting for her answer.

She blew out a breath. "Fine. I'll stay overnight in a cabinone nightto see what it’s about."

Surprise flickered through his eyes, then a slow smile stretched his mouth.

Dammit. He was hot when he was growly and quiet.

But he was freakingcutewhen he smiled.

"Okay then. I’ll set it up."

"You're picking the cabin?"

"’Course. Nobody better. I know exactly what you need."

She should not take that in any way other than how he said it. And actually, she should be suspicious. If he was trying to prove that she was not cut out for the bayou, God knew what kind of cabin he was going to put her in. Still a little part of her took that as a very dirty offer.

It was probably the stupid accent. She really hated the southern Louisiana accent.

Savannah planted her hands on her hips. "The cabin better have plumbing—indoor plumbing—” she said, wanting all of this to be said, and agreed to, in front of witnesses. “Electricity, not be overridden with bugs or rodents, be up off the water so that alligators can’t climb up and join me in bed.” A thought occurred to her. “Ithas to havea bed," she added.

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